His aunt didn't remember a thing. Her name, her family, her favorite pastimes—it was all just gone. Cody told her as much as he could, but it didn't take long before her gaze turned dull, as if she couldn't retain it all.

The thought that someone's entire identity could be stripped away overnight sent an icy chill through him. How had this happened?

He'd never really considered any downsides to the memory vault. It had been created to suppress crime—once the magical melody extracted all memories, nothing could remain hidden. It had made Holtgaard a peaceful place, a town where people didn't even bother locking their doors at night.

Sure, there had been resistance in the past. In the beginning, copies of the memories were made and stored. But then a villager found a way to manipulate those copies, turning them into false memories. After that, the procedure was changed: real memories were locked away safely, leaving behind only an echo. An echo that, apparently, was still connected to its source—because now that something had happened to the source, the echoes had vanished too.

But nothing had ever gone wrong with the memories before. The fact that no customers had shown up today made Cody suspect his aunt wasn't the only victim. That sinking feeling in his gut only grew stronger. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

Cody promised his aunt he'd find out what was going on. His first stop was Fleur. She worked at the memory vault, after all, and besides that, he needed to make sure she still had her memories.

With every step he took, his feet felt heavier. So far, he had passed three villagers. Each of them had stared around in confusion before backing away from him, almost as if they feared he might harm them.

I'm not the only one who still remembers, am I?

No, that didn't make sense. Something must have happened to the memory chambers, damaging some of the stored memories. There had to be emergency protocols for situations like this. Deep underground, fragments of lost memories were probably floating around right now. Eventually, things would be fixed.

Even as he tried to hold on to that optimism, his fingers trembled as he rang the bell on Fleur's parents' front door.

Please, let this not have happened to you as well.

He rocked back on his heels, waiting. Relief flooded through him when Fleur herself appeared in the doorway. She didn't look scared or aggressive—just curious.

"Fleur... I..." He took a deep breath, trying to push his nerves aside. That was when he realized he hadn't put on his cloak. That had never happened before. It was exactly the kind of thing Fleur would normally tease him about, but she simply stood there, watching him with a small, patient smile.

"Hello," she said when he failed to find his words. "Can I help you with something?"

"Uh..." That wasn't how she normally greeted him. But maybe he was just imagining things because he felt so out of sorts. "Lavinia lost her memories. And others too. Something must have happened at the memory vault last night. Do you know anything about it?"

She tilted her head slightly.

His shoulders sank. There was... something missing in her eyes. Like she could hear his words but wasn't fully processing them. She certainly wasn't the sharp, decisive Fleur he had been with for almost a year.

"I'm not sure how to help you." She gave him an apologetic smile. "I don't really understand what you mean. I've just felt like... I've been floating on soft, fluffy clouds all morning."

Right. That's not helpful.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked.

She slowly shook her head, though her eyes took on a familiar warmth. "No... but I'd love to find out."

Cody swallowed back a sigh. She doesn't recognize me. She's forgotten me.

At least she seemed calm. Unlike his aunt, who had been on edge ever since she woke up, Fleur looked as if she was starting fresh. Like she was a blank slate, ready for a new story to be written.

She kept looking at him, almost expectantly. Is she still drawn to me somehow? Are her emotions still there, even if her memories are gone? It had to be possible, right? But he didn't dare ask. He didn't want to see her panic, like his aunt had, or spiral into confusion like the neighbors he had heard arguing earlier.

So instead, he gave her a small smile. "We can definitely do that sometime. That sounds nice."

Her face lit up.

There had been times when that smile could make him forget everything else. But not today. His mind was too crowded with worry. Fleur couldn't help him—not like this.

He took a step back, trying to wrap things up as politely as possible. "I have to go. I'll see you soon, okay?"

Before she could ask when, he waved, forced a smile, and turned away. He had no idea what he would find at the memory vault, or how long it would take before things went back to normal.

If things go back to normal.

What if their memories are really gone? Forever?

His stomach twisted. No. There was no reason to think that way. This could be fixed. It had to be.

With feet that felt even heavier than before, he made his way back home. He pulled on his cloak, grabbed his staff, and headed for the square.

Cody's fingers dug into the rough stone of the well. His legs nearly gave out beneath him.

Disbelief churned inside him as he looked down. The staircase was gone.

It was just... a well.

The small magical light he had sent down hovered ten meters below, resting on the bottom. A flat, dry bottom. No water. No entrance. Just a well.

Did he need to activate something? A spiral staircase couldn't just vanish, could it? There had to be some sort of mechanism, even if he'd never heard of one.

He circled the well, pressing and pulling at different stones. Nothing. No hidden levers. No sliding panels. Just the steady hum of insects and the distant chirping of birds.

Cody glanced around. A few villagers wandered aimlessly across the square, none of them paying any attention to the well. The shops were all closed.

Wasn't anyone concerned? Didn't anyone realize that people had lost their memories? That this well should not be just a well? He looked toward the mayor's house. Silent. The council hall—no movement.

I can't be the only one who remembers.

No, that wasn't possible. Others had to be out there. And the entrance to the memory vault... maybe it was sealed every night, and the chaos this morning had delayed the usual reopening.

It was a long shot, but still, he lifted his staff and traced glowing words into the air: Show me the staircase.

A shimmering haze filled the well. Shapes emerged—but not a spiral staircase.

A ladder now leaned against the stone wall.

Cody exhaled sharply. Not what he'd hoped for, but it was something. Carefully, he climbed over the edge and descended, hoping to find answers at the bottom.

There was nothing but bare earth. No doors, no hidden triggers. This entrance was sealed.

There had to be another way in. But Cody had no idea where to look.

He spent the rest of the afternoon searching.

Going door to door, trying to find anyone who still remembered.

He was met with vacant stares, wary frowns, polite but clueless smiles.

No one recognized him.

No one had their memories.

By nightfall, the truth settled deep in his bones. He was alone. The only one left who remembered.

He sank into a garden chair, exhaustion pressing down on him. He had always liked solitude. But this? This was something else.

How was he supposed to fix this? Could he fix this?

No one in this town remembered who they were.

Right now, they were still wandering around in confusion, but soon enough, new routines would take shape. None of them recalled the rules. Their habits. Cody could tell them anything, but the truth was, their memories were simply... gone. Slipped through his fingers like sand.

He was the only one who still knew who had been on the council. Who the mayor was. But stepping into the spotlight seemed like a bad idea. If they found out he was the only one who still remembered, they'd assume he had something to do with the disappearance of their memories. And if that happened... who knew what they'd do to him?

Cody ran a hand over his face. But I can't just hide and hope this all blows over. Husbands and wives were strangers to each other now. Parents didn't even recognize their own children. Someone had to do something, and Cody had no idea where to start.

He needed help.

His thoughts drifted back to last week, when the town square had been packed for Nova's departure. She had taken her memories with her. Exactly for this reason: because in the past, riots had broken out when people were exiled and left to trust that vengeful people wouldn't tamper with their memories.

The exiles still had their memories.

Orion still had his memories.

Cody had no idea if Orion would even consider helping him—if he cared about the village, or his parents, at all—but he was his best shot.

Cody swallowed hard.

That meant leaving the village. Wandering alone through the enchanted forest, with no clue where to find Orion. He pulled his cloak tighter around himself, thinking of the dark creatures that would be watching him from between the trees.

I can't do this.

The silence around him, the absence of friendly chatter, the hollow ache in his stomach—they all told him otherwise.

You have to.

Night fell. For the first time in Cody's life, there was no magical melody filling the air, no glowing memories drifting into the sky.

It was quiet. Cold. And it was becoming painfully clear: the memories weren't coming back on their own.

Tomorrow, he would leave. Before chaos erupted—or new rules were enforced that would keep him from finding help.